


Cold

by NuttersandAcorn (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NuttersandAcorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simple little drabble. Sherlock, undercover, is spotted by Lestrade, who doesn't recognize him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

Cold isn't one of Sherlock's strong suits. Winter, in fact, he hates; and in response, it seems to hate him. He hates the bitter cold evenings when only a crackling fire warms him. The snow that his hair catches is just as annoying when it melts in his hair as it is falling in the first place. Bone-chilling wind is relentless, and Sherlock is secretly glad his coat covers his legs some days.

On the other hand, Lestrade seems much more suited for cold weather. Rarely does he ever have to wear a scarf or gloves. On days where it's still too cold for Sherlock, Lestrade prances around without his coat, saying that it was a nice day outside and Sherlock should really eat more. Prick, Sherlock thinks.

Sherlock remembers those days of picking into Lestrade's flat because his own had a broken heating system or no fireplace. It was the days of no John. Lestrade would sit him in front of a portable heater and hand him a blanket and a cup of either tea or coffee. There had been no talk. Every now and then, Sherlock would doze, and Lestrade would wake him and send him home.

"Keep the blanket," he said one day. Sherlock did.

Sherlock sits in a park. It's been a year and a half since his fall off of the hospital; his "suicide". John has moved on. Lestrade has not. Sherlock does not know this.

He wraps what is left of Lestrade's old blanket around himself. No more warm coat; no more warm scarf. The blanket itself is torn and thin with corners missing and the precious fabric burned stiff. He is waiting for his next command from one of Mycroft's advisers at five in the morning.

It comes and goes.

* * *

 

Lestrade is taking a run. The crisp air clears his head and makes him feel a bit better about himself. He's only been doing this for a couple of months, but only because John had urged him to get out of his flat for once. "You can't sit in here and drink beer all day. What would Sherlock want?"

With that, Lestrade set out to make himself a better man. It's been hard. All he does is run, go home, drink, eat, and fall asleep. Losing his job along with losing Sherlock... bad combination. The job he has now is barely keeping him housed.

He stops when he catches eye with a cold, lonely man. That blanket just won't do. "Hey. Do you need something?"

The stranger, an all-so-familiar stranger, blinks. It seems like he wasn't expecting that question. "No."

The voice sends memories coursing through Lestrade's veins, and he looks away for a second before shedding off his coat and draping it over the man's shoulders. He sounds like Sherlock. But Sherlock had dark curly hair. Sherlock had the bluest eyes Lestrade has ever seen. And Sherlock is dead. The man looks shocked, and Lestrade shakes his head. "Keep it. It was a gift, but I... I can't keep it. Too painful."

"If... if it was a gift, I wouldn't want to have it." The man sheds off the coat, but Lestrade grabs it and slips it back on, taking the blanket instead. "I'd like to keep that."

"Oh? This dingy old thing?"

"Yes." The blanket is taken back. "Like this coat was to you, this blanket was a gift to me. One day, I'll be able to return to him. But for now, he'll have to wait. Go on. You have things to do, do you not?"

Lestrade nods.

* * *

 

The coat is torn during an undercover mission in Belgium.

Sherlock keeps it with the blanket now, in a small suitcase, as reminders to his life before and what he'll return to when he's done.


End file.
